


acoustic

by moonix



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Talking About Consent, neil makes a few noises, sleepy handjobs, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 03:10:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13332243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonix/pseuds/moonix
Summary: Andrew wants his boyfriend to be a little more demonstrative about his "yes". Neil gives it a try.





	acoustic

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on tumblr a while ago but never got around to posting it here, so I'm fixing that now. :)

“Neil.”

They're cooped up in Andrew's bed in Columbia, snug in the darkness and the creaking quiet of the house, all the doors between them and the outside world safely locked. Neil's mouth is sore and slack from an hour of kissing and he's drifting, sleepy and content, losing himself in the low rush of a casual sort of arousal that never quite reaches a state of urgency. Andrew's hand is slipped inside his sweatpants and Neil has his fingers tangled in the slightly sweat-damp curls at the nape of Andrew's neck, soft and secure.

“Neil,” Andrew says again. The loss of his mouth feels cruel and Neil chases after it with a sloppy hum but stops when Andrew moves further away and pulls his hand out of Neil's pants.

“Hmm? You want to stop?”

“Do _you_ want to stop?” Andrew asks pointedly. Neil frowns, blinking the sleepiness from his eyes, and lets go of Andrew's hair.

“No. Unless it's a no for you now,” he says slowly, pressing down the pillow between them so he can see Andrew's face better. A street lamp outside flickers, twitchy like a moth, and Neil watches Andrew watching him, waiting for the circling vultures of his thoughts to settle so they can talk about whatever the issue is.

“You were... spaced out,” Andrew finally shoves into the open. “I won't do this with you if you just lie there and endure it.”

“I wasn't _enduring_ it,” Neil protests. “I was enjoying it. I'm just tired.”

“Then go to sleep,” Andrew growls, withdrawing further. Neil feels clammy and unfinished without his warmth and tries not to look too disappointed.

“I don't want to sleep,” he admits. “Want you. This.”

Andrew's jaw clenches around the reflexive, “There is no this,” and Neil is inexplicably grateful that he doesn't say it this time. He reaches out a hand and puts it on the pillow next to Andrew's, gently linking their pinky fingers.

“What do you need?” he whispers, feeling around for the right words. He hears Andrew breathing – in, hold; out in a controlled rush.

“You're so quiet,” Andrew murmurs, turning his head away, and Neil has to crane his neck to understand him clearly. The muscles in Andrew's throat are still working, contracting around the bulk of unshed words, and Neil gives him time to sort through them, until Andrew sighs and turns back to him with a scowl. “I need to know if it's still yes. If this,” he points at Neil's face, “Is you enduring it or enjoying it.”

Neil turns that over a few times, like feeling the smooth edges of the worry stone that Renee gave him for their Secret Santa exchange last year. Their fingers are still linked on the pillow, and Neil lets go so he can trace the uneven landscape of Andrew's knuckles, tucking a silent yes into every dip and letting a no roll off the knobbly peaks.

“So,” he says slowly, “You want me to... be louder?”

Andrew's hand twitches minutely under his fingers. His eyes are on Neil when he looks up at Andrew's face and Neil swallows at the intensity in them.

“Huh,” he says, trying on a smile, “Guess you really do like my smart mouth.”

“Shut up,” Andrew says, predictably.

“But then how will you know that I'd like you to put your hand back in my pants?” Neil teases, taking Andrew's hand and letting his lips ghost over his knuckles, collecting up every yes with the tip of his tongue as he goes. Andrew shivers noticeably under his ministrations and makes a low, frustrated noise in the back of his throat before tugging his hand out of Neil's grip and trailing it back down where his shirt is rucked up around his ribs, over his stomach and his hips, hooking two fingers around his already low-riding waistband.

“Go on,” Neil says, more awake now and feeling equal parts self-aware and curious about the look in Andrew's eyes when he'd said _louder_.

It's easy to just let his breathing come a little more audibly when Andrew goes back to jerking him off. Trying to produce some sort of appropriately attractive noise beyond that is more awkward, so he stalls by kissing Andrew again, idly wondering if he should make up a new persona for himself, someone who is more demonstrative about these things, since he's always been better at playing a role than being himself. He finds he doesn't want to be anyone else with Andrew though, and pretending right now sounds like the opposite of what Andrew wanted him to do anyway.

“I can practically hear you overthinking,” Andrew mutters against his pliant mouth, grazing teeth against Neil's bottom lip in warning. Neil hums in protest and presses a little closer to make himself feel less exposed, toes curling pleasantly when Andrew tightens his hand around him and speeds up his rhythm.

Humming doesn't feel weird, so he does it again, letting it edge over into something a little more like a moan. Andrew rewards him by pushing him onto his back and slipping his free hand under Neil's shirt to tease at his nipples, making him shiver. In turn, he gets a gaspy sigh from Neil when he pulls down his pants for better access and replaces his fingers on Neil's chest with his mouth.

“I like – your mouth too, you know,” Neil breathes, arching a little against Andrew's slowly lapping tongue and burying his hands back in Andrew's hair. Andrew snorts softly and sucks hard on his nipple, and Neil hums again and thinks about how Andrew, too, is always very quiet.

Maybe, if he can be a little louder, it will encourage Andrew to be as well.

He leaves one hand fretting at Andrew's hair and clutches at Andrew's shoulder with the other for more stability, feeling hot and shaky now, like cloth all creased and wrung out when it comes out of the washing machine. Andrew keeps licking and sucking at his nipples and it's almost too much and not enough all at once. Neil bites down on his lip, chasing after his orgasm, and forgets about being loud altogether until Andrew's hand finally coaxes him over the edge and his mouth falls open, something like a whine blooming easily in the back of his throat. He feels shivery and vulnerable, safe in Andrew's hands, and he lets himself slur Andrew's name a few times, sighing when Andrew pushes up to kiss him quiet again.

He manages to get in a sloppy, “What about-” before Andrew slaps a hand over his mouth and shoves the other in his own pants to get himself off. It always sends a little thrill of joy and pride through Neil when Andrew lets him stick around for this part, and he waits for Andrew's grip to go slack again before turning to face him and reaching out to cup Andrew's jaw.

“Okay?” he hums. Andrew responds by nuzzling into his palm and letting his eyes fall closed, which from him is a show of trust, and Neil kisses his forehead and listens to his harsh breathing, so caught up in his own happiness that Andrew feels safe enough to do this with him in the room that he almost misses the minuscule sound Andrew makes just before he comes; the smallest of groans, too quiet to persist in the open, nestled just into the crook of Neil's palm for safe-keeping.

_Oh_ , Neil thinks, feeling flustered and warm all over, because he knows now why Andrew asked for this. He bites down on both of his lips to keep the smile from spilling out while Andrew still catches his breath and puts himself back together, careful not to touch him anywhere other than the hand on his face. Stupidly, he wants to thank Andrew; but he knows that Andrew wouldn't appreciate him even acknowledging it, so he stays quiet and nearly drifts off in the dozy afterglow warmth of their bed.

“Bathroom,” Andrew growls out after a while. “You first.”

Neil laughs a bit and noses into the pillow, unwilling to move, but he needs to get cleaned up and Andrew could probably do with some breathing space so he rolls out of bed anyway and grabs some tissues to deal with the worst of the mess. He leaves the box with Andrew on the bed and tip-toes out into the chilly hall and over to the bathroom, pausing to listen for any sounds from the others, but everything stays peaceful save for the faint snores coming from the living room that indicate Kevin is still happily passed out.

He and Andrew take turns in the bathroom and Neil cracks open the window a bit while Andrew is gone, breathing in the fresh air with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The street lamp outside flickers again and a car drives past, sweeping the road with its headlights. Neil leans his head against the window frame and thinks about safe spaces and the rest of his life billowing like sails ahead of him, of having time to grow and explore, and sharing all that with the people he loves.

“Are you having another sentimental moment, Josten,” Andrew mutters behind him, closing and locking the door and padding over to him in clean sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt that Neil likes.

“Maybe,” Neil smiles, pushing the window closed again. Andrew rolls his eyes and sits on the bed, stifling a yawn behind his hand. Neil perches next to him and leans his head on Andrew's shoulder, sneaking a hand out from under his blanket to trace the hard swell of Andrew's exposed biceps.

“Your brain is obnoxiously loud,” Andrew tells him, too tired to even try to bat Neil's hand away.

“Just earlier you were complaining about me being too quiet,” Neil points out with a small grin.

“I changed my mind,” Andrew huffs.

“Yeah, _now_ ,” Neil says, walking his fingers up Andrew's arm until he can poke his cheek. “You liked my loudness well enough while you still had your hands in my pants.”

“That wasn't loud,” Andrew says flatly.

“Is that a challenge?” Neil smirks.

Andrew looks at him, hair ruffled and eyes heavy with sleep, and then rubs a hand over his face and curses under his breath. He climbs under the covers without another word, and Neil knows he's won and wriggles into what little space Andrew has left for him on the bed, half tempted to just stay up and watch Andrew sleep but aware that he's probably going to drift off in a matter of minutes even if he tries.

“Night, Andrew,” he whispers, and, because he can't resist it after all: “Thank you.”

He barely feels the small kick Andrew gives him and burrows into the pillow with a smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [acoustic (the nerve ending remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972108) by [flybbfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flybbfly/pseuds/flybbfly)




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